


Hear My Thoughts

by earthyaliens



Category: Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph/Josh Dun - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Bullying, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, High School AU, M/M, Neglect, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-12-30 08:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthyaliens/pseuds/earthyaliens
Summary: Pain chewed at their brains and crushed their hearts. When they met, things suddenly didn't hurt as bad.





	1. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey I’m new to archive of our own, but I wanted somewhere to put my writing. If you like it and want to see more, feel free to give me a kudos. Thanks. |-/

Josh  
✧

Josh's head felt heavy. It was an invasive, uncomfortable feeling—like his brain had been filled with water. All reasonable thought and reason were drowning beneath the pressure, and he couldn't make out what was going on around him.

"Are you fucking crying?"

Thoughtlessly, Josh pressed his trembling fingers beneath his eyes. And yes, he was crying. But why? 

His muddled mind seemed to finally understand when he received a hard kick to his stomach. 

Oh, that's why. 

His coffee-colored eyes slowly flickered around, cautiously blinking away tears to regain his vision. However, his mind instantly regretted doing so when he saw the scene unfolding around him.

For once, he was the center of attention, but in the most unpleasant way possible. Standing above him were three fucking dickholes, who seemed most at ease when beating the living shit out of Josh during lunch on the dirty bathroom floor.

And like the fucking champ he is, he took it. 

He'd grown used to the beatings, really. His brain seemed to understand that at this specific time during the day, things were going to hurt, so it would be best to go just somewhere else for a while. So that's how it usually went—they'd find him, drag him into the bathrooms, and he'd slip away into his head until the pain went away. Sometimes it would hurt so much that his brain would stay like that for hours, and he wouldn't click back with reality until he had a teacher or janitor forcefully shaking him awake. He'd always fumble out a lie, and they'd always nod and sigh. 

Today, his mind forced himself out of his hazy state much sooner, to the point where those three dipshits above him didn't even look tired yet.

"You're a fucking crybaby," one of them muttered, causing the other two to start laughing maniacally.

As Josh's brain slowly continued to resurface, the pain of their actions really started hitting him.

"H-Holy fuck—" he choked out. His arms flailed to protect his sides, where they kicked mercilessly. He couldn't remember it ever hurting so bad—why did he come back so quickly?

"That's right, freak. I hope we break your fucking ribs," another one spat out, spit flying from his mouth. That was David, the worst of the three. Josh couldn't help wondering who had hurt him so bad that he had to do so to others in return. 

Josh wanted to tell someone. He wanted to get help before things got too out of hand and he really did break a bone. But shitty kids like David don't just stop. After a suspension or maybe even expulsion, he'd move on to someone else. Someone even weaker, someone even more vulnerable. Josh didn't want other people to get hurt too. It's better this way, he'd tell himself, he was doing the right thing.

With a last kick at his stomach, David and his goons retreated. Their ugly faces were licked with big, menacing smiles, their fists clenching and unclenching as they admired the damage they'd done. 

"Today was fun, freak. I hope you've learned your place," David sighed in satisfaction, as he bent down to wipe up the blood gushing from Josh's busted lip, "fucking hell, you look so fucking pathetic right now. You should've heard yourself that time around—you sounded like a fucking baby."

Josh coughed helplessly, his throat far too dry to spit back a clever response. 

"What was that? No stupid comeback today? Did we kick it out of you?" One of the goons asked teasingly. Josh couldn't remember his name.

All three of them laughed like dumbasses until the bell rang. With their heads held high, they left the bathrooms, not a trace of guilt plaguing a single one of them. Fucking sickos.

That beaten boy slowly ran a trembling hand through his pink curls. He needed to relax himself again, or he'd end up having a panic attack.

His breathing grew heavy as he continued to run trembling fingers through his sweaty hair. Usually, he could relax pretty easily this way, but it couldn't seem to shake the desperation and helplessness looming inside of him. 

"F-Fuck—g-goddammit," he whimpered out, as tears filled his eyes. Why did it have to be him? Out of all the shitty people in his shitty school, why did it have to be him? 

Tears gently slid down his strawberry-colored cheeks, leaving a sticky residue in its place. He let out the smallest sobs he could, not wanting anyone to walk by and hear him being a little bitch in the bathrooms by himself. Not that anyone hung out around those bathrooms, anyways. It was almost like it was designed entirely for the sake of drug dealing, underage sex, and brutal beatings.

Everything within Josh grew tense when he heard one of the stalls click open quietly. Instantly, he squeezed his eyes shut. One of them hid in the stalls, didn't they? 

Josh cried a little louder. Of course, it isn't over yet—it never fucking is. They always find more reasons to beat him again.

Josh was confused when he felt a small hand lift his head to slide something soft underneath. Instantly, his eyes flickered open, his expression growing soft.

It was a boy he'd never seen before. His eyes were big, and resembled the sweet color of honey. His hair was a dark, caramelized brown color that sat well against his tan, freckled skin, and he held the warmest, most comforting expression as he carefully glanced over Josh's tear-kissed face.

Josh swore he was looking at a goddamn angel.

"Relax your breathing," the boy murmured, as his little hand slid through Josh's pink curls. The beaten boy could feel himself growing calmer by the gesture. The angel must have seen him trying to relax himself that same way.

"It's okay," the boy reminded him, "you'll be okay."

Josh's eyes slipped closed tiredly. Holy shit, this boy was good at calming him down. Josh's own mother couldn't even relax him that easily.

"L-Let me grab your water bottle real quick, okay?" The angel murmured to him. Josh was too focused on his sweet, honey-like voice and completely missed what he'd actually said to him.

When the angel boy released his pink curls and began to crawl away, Josh's brain instantly panicked. 

No, please don't go.

It only took a moment of panicked breathing and trembling hands before that sweet boy had returned to Josh's side. His little hand returned to his faded pink curls, while the other cautiously guided the tip of a water bottle to the beaten boy's lips. Instantly, Josh felt himself relax even more as his throat's dryness was relieved.

"Th-Thank you so much," he choked out.

The angel boy nodded his head gently in response, "wh-what else can I do? Do I need to get s-someone?" 

Josh shook his head hurriedly as he started to sit up, "no, no—it's fine, I-I'll be fine. This happens a lot, I-I can take care of it myself."

The angel seemed worried as he helped Josh sit up all the way.

"A-Are you sure? I-I d-don't wanna just l-leave you here," he explained nervously. 

Suddenly, the angel boy's soothing voice grew shaky and weak as his honey-dipped eyes arose with anxiety.

Josh breathed out shakily as he placed a hand on his bruising hip. 

"No, it's fine—h-holy shit, this fucking h-hurts," he breathed out, his jaw clenched tight from the pain.

"D-Do you need an i-ice pack? I c-can go to the n-nurse and—"

"Did you not hear me? I said it's fine," Josh snapped at him. 

The beaten boy instantly felt guilty for lashing out when he saw the angel flinch away from him.

"S-Sorry," the angel mumbled quietly. 

His little legs were trembling in fear as he quickly stood to collect his belongings. Just before he could rush out of the bathrooms, Josh stopped him.

"No, don't apologize, okay? I'm sorry for being a dick. I shouldn't have snapped at you," he rambled out quickly, "it just really fucking hurts. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The angel boy forced a half smile towards Josh, "s'fine. S-Sorry for annoying you."

Before Josh could clarify that no, it wasn't his fault at all for Josh being a total dick, the sweet angel had left, the bathroom door swinging shut behind him.

Somehow, after all that, Josh had mustered up just enough confidence to stumble back to his second to last class of the day. His cheeks burnt in an embarrassed red as the teacher instantly handed him a detention slip. 

Great.

To make his day just a hundred times better, his stupid feet somehow managed to trip on absolutely nothing as he was walking back to his desk. 

Great. 

✧


	2. Alone

Josh  
✧

By the end of Josh's shitty school day, he was more than ready to get the hell out of there. His entire body absolutely hated him as he practically ran out the front doors and into the misty rain shimmering down in sheer layers.Thankfully, his car wasn't parked too far out.

The beaten boy released a quiet whimper as he hopped into his car a little too fast. His hip bumped the center console, leaving a painful sting.

"Fuck," he hissed out quietly, his hand gripping his side protectively.

Those assholes had fucked him up pretty bad. He was definitely going to have to let his body rest for a few days before being able to play his drums again.

Josh sat back into his seat, a heavy sigh filling his ears. What the hell was he doing? Why was he letting this shit happen to him? He could easily just tell a teacher and get those dicks in trouble. So why didn't he?

Of course, he didn't want them hurting anyone else. He knew David would instantly jump to someone smaller and weaker, someone who wouldn't have the confidence to tattletale. God forbid it be someone as nurturing and sweet as the angel in the bathroom....Josh wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he found out they were hurting someone like him.

That beaten boy slipped on a Grouplove album as he pulled out of the school parking lot. Instantly, slow, soothing drum beats and a familiar bass guitar rhythm filled his ears. This was the shit that made most sense to him. Reality was too confusing, too overwhelming. Music made figuring it out a little less difficult.

Rain started to drizzle down all around him as he drifted away with his thoughts.

Why do kids like David exist, anyways? It was like one shitty person decided to find another shitty person and create an even shittier person together. Josh grinned to himself.

No, no, that's not logical, he thought, people aren't born shitty. Something makes them shitty.

Josh thought about it for a while, but quickly decided that thinking about it wasn't helping anything. At the end of the day, David would still be a malicious asshole who smiles and laughs as he beats the life force from Josh's body.

Josh's eyebrows furrowed curiously when he saw a familiar figure walking on the sidewalk ahead of him. When he realized who the figure was, Josh slammed on his breaks and rolled down the window.

"Hey!" He yelled.

Angel boy turned around, his eyes growing big when he saw who was calling out for him.

"C'mere!" Josh yelled, waving him over to his car.

The angelic boy seemed bewildered, but he hesitantly wobbled over to Josh's car with a nervous expression plastered to his face.

"Y-Yeah?" He squeaked out, large eyes glancing around nervously. His feet stayed glued to the sidewalk, not daring to step any closer to the car.

It suddenly became very apparent that Josh had no fucking clue what he wanted to say to this boy. After a few seconds of complete silence, his stupid brain spewed whatever came to it first.

"....it's raining."

The angel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Uh, yeah...so?"

Josh honestly might as well have been choking on a brick with how helpful his socializing skills were being. 

"I-I mean—I was trying to say that—do you wanna ride home? Since it's, y-you know....raining?" He sputtered out.

The angel boy looked a little frightened by his offer. Josh honestly wouldn't have been surprised if he started running off in the opposite direction to get away from him. 

"I..." the sweet boy trailed off for a while, his honey eyes flickering over at the other end of the street, "okay."

Josh swore his eyes fell out of their sockets. Wait, did he just agree?

Before Josh could promptly ask why the actual fuck this kid was agreeing to get in his car, the angel boy was already climbing into the passenger seat with a small, nervous smile.

"Thanks," he mumbled shyly as he buckled up his seatbelt. 

Josh spent a few seconds staring at him in bewilderment. It wasn't until he saw that sweet boy flush pink and look down at his lap uncomfortably that he looked away quickly.

"Sorry, I—I didn't actually think you'd agree," he laughed awkwardly as he started driving, "I did snap at you earlier, so....I figured you wouldn't wanna, you know, be around me."

Josh glanced over at the boy just in time to see him shrug slightly.

"S'okay," he said quietly, "you were in pain. I understand."

Josh smiled slightly. "Cool. Thanks, by the way. I-I was kinda...having a panic attack and you—you helped chill me out. So, thanks."

The angel was quiet for a moment before he responded.

"You're welcome," he said softly, "I-I get those too sometimes,"

Josh glanced at him briefly—he was facing the window, turned just enough for his face to be hidden.

"Panic attacks?" Josh questioned.

"Turn here," the angel told him, before realizing what he'd asked, "yeah. They suck."

Josh laughed bitterly. "Yeah, they do."

Josh quickly realized that calling this sweet boy an angel wasn't quite enough—he needed to know his actual name.

"Wow, I'm an asshole for not already asking you this, but—what's your name?"

The angel boy cracked a small smile. "Its fine. I'm Tyler. You?"

Josh grinned when he caught the small smile that sweet boy was trying to hide from him.

"I'm Josh. Where am I going from here?" He asked him.

That sweet angel sat up as he looked around at where they were. 

"Uh, turn left up here," he explained, "and then take another left onto Willow Creek."

A safe silence swallowed them up as Josh followed the angel's instructions. 

That beaten boy had to admit that Tyler's company was nice. For once, he was with someone who wasn't making him feel like shit. 

"The white one is mine," he heard him say quietly. 

Josh's heart started racing unnecessarily fast as he pulled into Tyler's driveway. It wasn't until that sweet angel started climbing out of his car that his tummy started to churn painfully.

He's gonna leave and Josh is gonna be alone again.

"Th-Thanks for the ride," he stuttered, as he slung his bag over his shoulder and mustered up an anxious smile.

Josh forced himself to smile back, despite knowing how pathetic it probably looked.

"N-No problem," he choked out, "again, thanks for earlier."

The angel smiled a little wider in response. "Of course. See you, Josh."

A heavy silence filled his car as that sweet angel parted with him. Josh watched him rustle his damp hair as he hurried over to the safety of his front porch.

And with the slam of the angel's front door, Josh was alone again. 

Nothing hurt worse than being alone. 

Loneliness was a goddamn disease that plagued every inch of Josh's body. It chewed at his insides and turned his brain to mush—he was falling apart without the medicine needed to cure him.

And there was no distinct medicine for loneliness, either. Josh couldn't just pop a pill and suddenly feel happy. He needed someone. Someone to talk to and understand. He needed someone who could help make him feel better, and he needed someone who he could do the same for in return.

The only thing stopping him from getting better is the fact that josh is a fucking freak with no friends.

✧


	3. Light

Tyler  
✧

His room was swallowed by darkness, despite the orangey light gleaming in from the street lamps outside. He lay on his back at the center of an empty mattress, his little hands held out into the air above him, as though he was reaching out to grab his ceiling fan. His fingertips grazed the warm, orangey light flooding in through his window, and he watched on as it swallowed up his hand the more he angled it.

Intricately, his hands danced together within the beams of orange light, forming smooth patterns and rhythms. He pretended they were two ballerinas dancing among a dark stage, with orange spotlights beaming down on both of them.

With the sound of footsteps thumping up the stairs, the ballerina hands quickly retracted back onto the bed, where the boy then rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.

Soon, he heard the familiar creak of his bedroom door. The artificial light from the hallway quickly flooded his dark room as a familiar figure walked inside.

"I know you're awake, Tyler."

The frail boy squeezed his eyes tighter and kept still.

"I heard you singing to yourself less then an hour ago, and I know it takes you a long time to fall asleep," the voice suddenly snapped, "get up."

Tyler slowly sat up on his mattress and looked towards the familiar figure. He was met with crossed arms and silver eyes.

"I made you dinner. It's on the table."

Tyler cradled his left hip as he started to climb down from his mattress. Before his feet could even reach the ragged carpet below, a strong arm was lodging itself around his neck and pinning him back down.

"I didn't hear a thank you, asshole," the figure spat, his face now inches away from Tyler's.

The frail boy choked on his own breath as tears filled his honey eyes.

"Th-Than–Thank y-you, Sir," he stuttered out, desperately trying to claw the large man off of him. He was too weak to put up a fight, as usual.

The large figure slowly eased up on the pressure he was putting on the boy's neck, but continued to hold him down by his wrists.

"Don't get slick, bitch. I can easily take you down if I need to," he grumbled to him, a smug, angry expression molding into his face.

"N-No, please, I'll be good," he whispered back calmly, despite how bad he was shaking, "I-I'm sorry."

The man gently released one of his wrists and used a calloused thumb to wipe away the tears on his reddening cheeks.

"Good. I don't like when I have to hold you down like this, Tyler. I wish you would just obey so I wouldn't have to do this to you. I guess it can be easy to forget the rules when you're hungry," he chuckled darkly, "so I'll let this one slide."

That frail boy was shaking like a leaf as he nodded profusely, "th-thank you, Sir."

"you're welcome," he chuckled darkly as he released the trembling boy and climbed off of him.

Tyler flinched when the man's large hand darted out to help him up. Timidly, he accepted the help and was roughly pulled to his feet.

"There we are," the man grinned down at him, "all better, right?"

Tyler looked down at his feet and nodded.

"Good. Anyways, dinner's on the table for you," the man said casually as he walked out of the boy's room. It was like nothing had even happened.

Tyler listened as his loud boots thumped down the hallway. As soon as he heard his bedroom door creak shut, that frightened boy left his bedroom on quick feet. He kept his steps quiet as he rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

On the small, round dining table, a bowl of chunky, brown soup sat.

His face instantly scrunched with distaste.

Of course, his first meal after three days of going without and it's a nasty sludge that'll probably kill him.

Tyler sighed quietly as he sat down in front of the slime bowl and smelt it. 

"Agh, gross," he whispered to himself.

Nervously, that frail boy lifted the spoon from the brown soup and looked at it. After squeezing his eyes shut and telling himself it'd taste like fried chicken, he shoved the spoon into his mouth and choked down on the slimy substance.

It wasn't good, but it was still food, so the hungry boy slurped down as much of it as he could before his tummy started to ache.

"Are you really eating that?"

Tyler nearly fell out of his seat in response to the sudden voice.

He heard the man laugh at his reaction. "Jesus, you're on edge today."

Tyler flushed pink with embarrassment.

"That shit is disgusting," he continued to laugh as he leaned over the table and looked at how much he'd eaten, "damn. You must be a hungry boy, hm?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Tyler mumbled down at the near-empty bowl of sludge. He was embarrassed.

"Pathetic," he shook his head, "you're punishment is being extended because you still haven't gotten your math grade up. No more lunch or dinner until you've fixed it."

Tyler looked up with a look of pure helplessness. His tummy didn't like the sound of that, but there was nothing he could do.

"I'm only feeding you today 'cause I don't want you passing out at school," he chuckled at the thought as he pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, "although that would be fucking hilarious, I don't want them calling CPS or anything."

That frail boy stared at him with big eyes as he popped the cap on his beer and pressed it to his lips. He chugged nearly half of it before slamming it down onto the counter. Tyler flinched.

"Are you finished?" He asked him.

"Yes, Sir," he answered quietly, "m-may I get up?"

"Yeah," he nodded to him as he grabbed his beer and walked over to the doorway of the kitchen, "do the dishes and then I want you in bed."

"Yes, Sir."

✧


	4. Hazy

Josh  
✧

Josh's mind was slowly unraveling itself from the hazy state it had been buried in. Everything had gone dark for a while. It was as though someone had sliced open his head and scooped out his brain—no longer could he form complete thoughts or use any of his five senses. He was entirely brain dead....until his vision was finally reappearing and coherent thoughts were finally kicking around in his head.

Carefully, he used his fingertips to decipher where exactly he was and why. He felt cold, squared flooring, and when he pulled his fingers away, they were slicked with sticky residue. Everything felt very familiar.

Quickly, it all clicked. School bathrooms. More specifically, the floor of those bathrooms. Josh knew them all too well.

I had been beaten up again. David and his goons had wasted their time sticking their limbs in my direction, and now I'm left to deal with the aftermath all by myself.

Josh flinched when he heard movement. Instinctively, his beaten body curled up even further as his blurry vision surveyed all that was around him.

Instantly, he saw a figure. A person, most definitely. They were sitting next to him, their face blurred too much for Josh to decipher who they were.

"Wh-who are you?" He choked out, his voice breaking. He never sounded like himself when he awoke from his hazy state.

The figure was now looking at him, their expression still unreadable.

"I-It's....Tyler? We m-met yesterday, remember?" The voice replied, sounding frightened and small.

Josh sighed softly with relief at the words of his angel.

"Oh, thank God it's just you," he told him tiredly, "m-my vision is so blurry right now, I-I can't even see you."

The angel boy crawled up onto his knees and came much closer to Josh's beaten body. He leaned down just enough for Josh's blurry vision to focus on the face in front of him.

And sure enough, a pair of honey-colored eyes and freckled cheeks were staring back at him. Josh smiled appreciatively at him.

"How long have I been out?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Tyler offered a sad smile. "I-It's lunch time still, so not too long. I heard them....h-hurting you outside the bathrooms and I waited until they were done to come see you," he explained timidly, his warm eyes flickering down to his small hands, "y-you were passed out, though."

Josh rubbed his eyes to ease away the blurriness. "Not passed out. Just...not quite here."

Tyler tilted his head at him in confusion. "Not here? Wh-what do you mean?"

Josh laid still, his eyes falling shut as he tried to ignore the blistering pain slicing up and down his back and sides. Shakily, he slid a hand up to his bubblegum pink curls and started to pull gently. The slight sting brought his mind away from the rest of the pain.

"The p-pain is just too much sometimes," he tried to explain, "my mind h-has to go somewhere else for a while."

After several seconds of silence ticked by, Josh slid his eyes open. He was relieved to see that his angel had not yet left him, and was simply sitting close to him in silence. Knowing that someone was there with him was comforting.

Suddenly, that sweet boy gently eased Josh's hand from his short, bubblegum pink curls and replaced it with his own. Rather than pulling and twisting like Josh had, Tyler began to very gently brush through the clean curls with his fingers.

The beaten boy felt his eyelashes flutter in response to the comforting gesture. He wasn't used to having other people around whenever he was in this kind of state, and he definitely wasn't used to having others try to comfort him. He'd grown used to the routine of sitting by himself and crying until he had the will to get back up again. Although, it could take hours for him to finally reach that point.

"I-Is this okay?" Tyler asked quietly. His voice was trembling slightly, as though he was afraid Josh would be upset with him for trying to help.

Before that beaten boy could stop himself, he was nodding harshly.

"I-It's good....just, don't stop, please."

Tyler nodded gently like he understood, and continued to thread through sweet, pink curls until Josh's anxiety was melting away beneath his fingertips.

By the time the next bell had gone off, signaling the end of lunch, both boys were sitting up against the bathroom wall in silence, reluctant to part ways.

"We could ditch, you know," Josh proposed quietly.

Tyler pulled his knees up to his chest and looked over at Josh.

"Okay," he agreed.

Josh cracked a smile.

✧


	5. Medicine

Josh  
✧

Josh felt really fucking weird. 

And good. He felt really fucking good.

Somehow, Tyler was the perfect medicine for his hurt. Even just sharing a laugh with him was enough to put the scrambling thoughts in his head at ease. 

He definitely wasn't used to blurting whatever came to his head in the moment, or telling a stupid joke whenever he thought of one. He had grown used to stuffing those thoughts down inside of him, to be lost forever. But now, he was blurting whatever words came to his head and it felt liberating. 

Surprisingly, Tyler was just as talkative. As soon as they hit a topic he found interesting, the angel didn't seem as reluctant to say whatever came to his head. And Josh listened with everything he had, as though Tyler's opinions were the only ones that mattered.

They were free to finally be stupid fucking teenagers around one another. They didn't have to lie to themselves anymore; their innocence and youth had been murdered by those around them, forcing them to grow up far too soon. But when they were together, they were finally free to act like clueless, irresponsible teenagers. They laughed at innuendos and spoke without thinking and swore relentlessly. They were being kids again, despite so much of their childhoods having been ripped away from them.

The two of them had spent the rest of the school day sitting in the bed of Josh's truck. They ate sugary snacks and choked down sodas from the can, all the while sitting within one another's presence and watching the sun drift across the sky as time melted by. They asked each other questions back and forth, not seeming to care if the questions were silly and pointless. Neither of them wanted to get serious; this was their time to escape the harshness of reality and get lost in stupid facts about each other. They wanted to forget all the bad in their lives and focus on something good.

As they talked, Josh would get embarrassed by how often he'd accidentally start rambling. As soon as realization would hit him, his face would burn a cherry red as he would profusely begin to apologize for talking so much. Tyler would always just smile and tell him to keep going, as though he enjoyed hearing Josh get lost in his own rambles.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to having someone actually listen to me," he admitted, not really realizing the weight of those words and how true they actually were.

That day he found a few new things to hate himself for: talking too fucking much and saying shit without thinking it through first. He wasn't the best when it came to talking, that was obvious, but it still felt so fucking good to just say whatever came to his head and actually have someone listen. Tyler was good at listening, too—he simply sat there with his eyes glued to Josh's. He didn't constantly respond or nod his head in the way adults do to make you think they care about what you say. Somehow, his silence was more comforting than the fake, bittersweet condolences of any adult.

Josh always left space for Tyler to talk, but after a while, he rarely did so. He seemed more comfortable simply sitting within Josh's presence and listening to him. He didn't have to talk constantly for Josh to know he was content. 

It was around four o' clock when they decided it was time to head home and end Ditch Day for good.

"This was...really fun," Josh released a nervous laugh, just as he was pulling up next to the other boy's house. All afternoon he couldn't seem to shut the hell up, and yet now, proper sentences were failing to come to his head.

"Yeah, I...." Tyler looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words, "it was really good, Josh. I-I'll....see you tomorrow?"

Josh smiled at him, "of course."

✧

Josh sat awake into the early hours of the night. 

He did this a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. He wasn't sure exactly why. Thoughts start to pester him as the night progresses, and sleep slivers out of sight. He'd grown used to long, sleepless nights.

He'd had trouble sleeping since he was a kid. When his parents would go on weekend-long business trips, the hours would slip away and he'd be awake into the early hours of the night. When he told his parents about it, they discussed sleeping pills and therapy, not quite grasping the idea that their child couldn't sleep because of them. So, he swallowed down two large pills on the nights where he was home alone and prayed for sleep. It never did much but make him feel drowsy the next day.

After a few years, weekend trips turned into weekday trips. They slowly stopped saying goodbye altogether before a trip and rarely texted to check up on him. They only ever called if they got a call from the school about something he'd done. He usually got a "don't do it again" and a "we're disappointed in you" before they felt satisfied with their lecture and decided to hang up. 

Josh wasn't even sure if he wanted them to come home anymore. Things felt wrong when they were around.

Josh pulled out his phone and put on some music. He had another long, sleepless night ahead of him.

✧


	6. Glass

Tyler  
✧

The anxiety felt like bugs crawling through his veins and it was maddening. Tyler had the undeniable urge to rip up his skin and cut out the crawling critters underneath. A part of him was actually starting to wonder if that would work.

The anxiety continued to fester beneath his skin as his eyes wandered along the chipping walls of his bedroom. Dull moonlight was dripping in through his window and he watched as the shadows of naked branches danced on the walls and ceiling. Eventually, his eyes would begin to water and the blackness would mend together, forming figures and monsters who thirst on his fear and thrive in the darkness. It scared him, but he'd never admit that.

His dad had taken away the lightbulb in his room months ago. One by one, he was stripping him of every little necessity he had, until the day that Tyler had nothing left but him. 

Tyler flinched when a car door thumped closed from outside. With anxiety pricking at his spine like needles, he scooted further up his naked mattress before laying down on his side. He faced away from the bedroom door and shakily wrapped his arms around himself.

He didn't know what was coming. He didn't know whether to run and hide or to pretend like everything was fine. If his dad had even the slightest idea about Ditch Day, Tyler was sure he'd be dead before morning.

Chills climbed his spine as the front door opened in the distance. It slammed abruptly, loud enough for Tyler to jolt where he lay.

The familiar thud of his father's boots appeared, and the sound traveled closer and closer and closer and closer until—

Tears gathered in Tyler's eyes. He was outside the door, breathing loudly and shuffling noisily, all for the sake of scaring that poor kid half to death.

The door opened abruptly and slammed into the wall behind it. The noise sent another jolt up Tyler's spine and he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could melt into the mattress for good. His father's large, looming shadow appeared in the light from the hallway and Tyler could feel his malicious eyes on his back.

"Tyler," he spoke, deep voice filling that silent room.

For a moment, Tyler kept silent, somehow hoping that man would assume he was sleeping and leave him be. It was so downright ridiculous, but he was stupid when fear had him in its grasp.

Tyler whimpered when a loud bang landed on the wall, scaring him.

"You better start fucking answering me, Tyler," that deep voice returned, now bitter and angry in tone.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered, fear nudging him to obey. 

Those footsteps proceeded into his room and Tyler tried to stop shaking as his father sat down on the mattress by his feet.

"Why don't you and I go downstairs and have a little chat?" He spoke slow and calm, almost teasing.

That anxious boy wanted to shake his head and shove the man off his bed, but fear overcame him and he found himself nodding slowly as he sat up.

Their eyes met and the evilest smirk formed on that man's lips. 

"Awfully jumpy," he commented, squinting his eyes slightly at him, "something on your mind?"

Tyler shook his head quickly, "n-no, sir."

His smirk faded and his jaw clenched, "you know what happens when you lie to me, kid."

That boy nodded his head quickly, "I-I know, m'not l-lying."

That man slowly shook his head, tsk'ing in disapproval.

"Let's go downstairs," was all he said. He stood up suddenly and his boots thudded over towards the doorway. Hurriedly, Tyler climbed down from his mattress and followed.

Outside his room, a crowded hallway swallowed them. Chipping, green walls trapped and suffocated him and his only escape was blocked by the one person he feared the most.

They reached the top of the staircase and his father froze completely on the top step. He turned his head to look at Tyler before grabbing ahold of his shirt and forcing their faces close together.

"You know what happens when you lie, Tyler," he repeated in a whisper.

Chills covered that boy's skin. Before he could sputter out a pointless refute, his dad had a hold on his arm and was throwing him down the stairs.

A yell passed his lips as soon as his feet left the floor. He was falling and panic was swelling inside of him—until he finally hit the bottom of the steps. 

He heard his arm crack. Tears rapidly filled his eyes as he laid there, too scared to move.

He heard his father's heavy boots descend the steps and approach his trembling frame. He stood over him, silver eyes locked with tear-filled brown ones. 

"How does it feel, Tyler?" He asked him calmly, "'cause that's how it feels for me when my piece of shit son ditches school and then tries to lie to me about it."

Tyler sobbed, small wheezes catching in his throat as he tried to breathe. His entire body felt like broken glass. He curled in on himself, clutching his broken arm protectively.

His father stepped over his limp frame and Tyler flinched at the movement. Those heavy boots trailed down the stairs and out of sight, disappearing from the room. Tyler laid still for a while, breathing heavily and shaking harder than he ever had before. It felt like hours before the boots returned and a shadow lurked above him.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, before stepping over the lifeless boy below and disappearing up the stairs. Tyler whined, wordlessly pleading for him not to leave him there all night.

"You're a fucking joke," he laughed, blatantly ignoring the pleas of his child. His footsteps slowly faded until the slam of a door upstairs made the boy flinch where he lay. After that, all was quiet. Tyler's whimpering and breathing seemed to be all that was left, but there was no one left to hear it. He was alone.

Hours passed before he fell asleep on the base of the stairs, face buried in the carpet and limbs unmoving around him. He dreamt of ditch days with pink-haired boys and soda pops, and bathroom floors with loopy laughter and wishful thoughts. It felt like that was all he had left.

✧


End file.
